


Black's "Not-A-Bird"

by remarkable1



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Awkward Flirting, Breaking and Entering, Conflict Resolution, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Darcy Lewis's Taser, F/M, Humor, Innuendo, Mistaken Identity, No Sex, Not Canon Compliant, Oops, SHIELD, Second Chances, Secrets, Sirius Black Lives, Stephen Strange - Freeform, Swearing, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: A little goofy triangle of mistaken identity, getting into trouble, outrageous flirting and some squinty-eyed romance on the horizon. Very squinty.
Relationships: (Sorta if you squint), Darcy Lewis & Stephen Strange, Sirius Black & Stephen Strange, Sirius Black/Darcy Lewis
Kudos: 20
Collections: Cast the Dice 2020, Marvelously Magical Bingo 2020





	Black's "Not-A-Bird"

This fic was written for Facebook's Wizarding Crossover Connection Cast The Dice event. My trope was Mistaken Identity. This also fulfills Facebook's Marvelously Magical's Bingo Card O2 Square with the prompt, Sirius Black/Darcy Lewis. The M rating is for swearing, and some sexual innuendo/mentions.

“Miss! Miss! Miss! Over here!”

A rich voice carried over the crowd, and Darcy wished that person would find whoever the hell they were looking for and fuck off. She had a headache and just wanted to get home. Working with Jane and Erick today had been nothing short of a nightmare. Everything that could go wrong had, and she just didn’t have the energy to be yelled at one more time.

Rushing onto the subway, the instant crush pushed her even more heavily into the wall than usual, and she struggled to breathe.

“Do you mind?” she grit out, freeing one arm to smack the guy in front of her with her rolled-up magazine.

The sneer of an ugly mug frowned at her. “Ain’t go no choice, Lady. ‘e’re all packed in ‘ere like sardines.”

“Tell me about it,” she mumbled, losing steam.

Still, Mr. Ugly seemed to take a little pity on her, and his expression softened. “Hold on a tic,” he told her below the roar and elbowed around a bit, jostling other passengers, compelling a few to swear before Darcy felt the constriction leave her ample chest and she drew a deep breath.

“Oh god, thank you so much!”

“Pleasure, miss,” the man growled, still jostling back and forth with the crowd until it settled, but obviously using his own burly stature to keep those precious few inches at bay so she could live til her next stop.

After a few teeth-rattling halts and starts, she finally made her way out with the flow of the crowd, her unlikely knight in shining armor long since gone, having grinned a gap-toothed smile at her while tipping his baseball hat’s rim to her. New Yorkers were so goofy, and some were kind-hearted, despite their looks and initial demeanor.

She slogged through the sudden downpour, swearing. “Fucking A. Of course, I forgot my fucking goddamn umbrella. Fuck a fucking duck.”

Fumbling with her keys, she let herself into the private brownstone, holding her breath and hoping like hell her roommates weren’t home. They weren’t. Thank FUCK for their blessedly busy social lives. Darcy preferred the solitude after work. They’d all roll in about midnight or later, depending on where they were and who they were with. Earplugs solved their partying noise nicely when she went to bed.

Unloading her shit, she headed straight for the kitchen, digging in her over-size purse and screaming when she looked up, a man in an old-time, what she assumed used to be in fashion like a century ago, outfit, was sitting at the breakfast bar.

Yanking out her taser, she aimed it at him, noting the look of alarm that crossed his features when she split his eardrums and threatened him.

“Miss. Miss. Whoa! Wait a moment! We had an appointment, remember?”

“How did you get in here? Who are you? Are you one of Audrey’s flings?” she narrowed her eyes, keeping the bead on him as she rounded the counter. She dug for her phone and typed in a few numbers. “I’ve got the cops on speed dial, buster. Now you better answer me, or your ass is grass.”

“I mean you no harm, and I've obviously gotten the address wrong. Or the time. Or something,” he murmured, seeming to have settled down and not bothering to look at her anymore. He pulled a piece of paper out of a top jacket pocket and studied it.

“This is 12398 Brownstone –” he started.

Darcy interrupted. “No. That’s a few doors down—this one’s 12393. Half of the eight is broken off at the end. They haven’t replaced it yet.”

“Oh. OH. Oh. Well, that explains it then. I’ll just be on my way then –”

“Wait a second. Give me that.”

She waved her taser at him, indicating the paper.

Now he frowned, evading her for the first time. “I’m sorry, miss, but this is private information.”

“You just told me what was on it. Hand it over, or I’m going to tase your ass so hard you’ll make   
Thor look like static shock.”

His blank expression remained as he blinked slowly. “I think we may have our wands -er – wires – crossed,” he said, setting the paper down and pushing it over to her.

Picking it up and glancing at it, Darcy snorted. “It’s fucking blank. Wow. You really are a grade-A prick. You think I was born yesterday?”

“No. But I did sufficiently distract you long enough to do _this.”_

With a wave of a funky little stick in his hand and ducking behind the counter, he disarmed Darcy, moved around the edge faster than she’d ever give a man his size and apparent age credit for, and wrapped both arms around her.

She struggled, knocking the little stick from his hand with a well-timed jolt, throwing herself against the counter's edge. The dude was heavy, but she worked out. Knocking his knuckles, he swore, and that gave her enough leverage to slide down and out from under him, crawling rapidly for the living room. She had a second taser hidden under the couch cushions.

“Accio!” the man’s voice shouted as she scrambled, heavy footsteps following her.

“Levicorpus!” the man said.

Various pops and crackles sounded like all the electronic equipment in the two rooms plugged in or turned on had short-circuited.

Not having time to register the odd event, Darcy kept going.

Darcy was unceremoniously yanked upside down by an unseen force into the air by her ankles just before she reached the couch. 

“What the ever-living fuck?!” she screeched, later very thankful she’d been wearing biker shorts under her long-ish hippie skirt, which now hung around her head, blinding her to the Asshole that had just used _magic_ on her. Either that or it was an invisible trap. Or some mutant power. What the hell ever. It didn’t matter. She was going to _tase_ his dumb ass if she got his hands on him.

A heavy footstep sounded and caught up to her. Having dropped her taser back in the kitchen and having failed to reach the second one, she pretty much dangled helplessly, desperately trying and failing to push her skirt out of her face that was doing its best to make her eat its hem.

A masculine hand pulled her skirt out of her face and peeked at her, obviously bending down to do so. A set of pearly white teeth smiled at her right before she whipped her fist into his face, hopefully busting his nose, but at least giving him a black eye by the sound of it.

“Good Godric, that fucking hurts! Ow! Why the bloody hell did you do that for? I’m not going to hurt you, little bird.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ bird. I’m Darcy Lewis and connected with some pretty high-up people, so you better fucking leave. I’ve got friends coming over any minute.”

Like hell. She was bluffing out her ass. No one was due to come home til at least midnight, that she was aware of.

“I’m not bothered,” he muttered to her surprise. It was hard to tell the exact nature of the expression, though, with her skirt back around her face and his voice muffled, probably by his hand covering his nose.

A _whoosh_ sound filled the room, and the air whipped into a frenzy, whirling Darcy’s dress in all directions. It blew so hard she found herself swinging in place upside down, causing her to become somewhat dizzy.

“Okay, Asshole. I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, but I don’t like feel like doing an impression of a kite in a tornado right now, mkay? Cuz that’s a real good way to get me to puke all over the place. Trust me. You do _not_ want me to barf. It’s real ugly. And disgusting.”

Strong hands reached under her pits and her bum, and suddenly she dropped like a rock into a man’s arms. Immediately struggling, she shouted, “Put me down, you fucking pervert!”

Her left fist connected solidly with another _thwack_ of flesh on flesh. Sputtering her damn skirt out of her face, she found herself unceremoniously plopped onto her couch, a very annoyed-looking Doctor Strange standing in her living room holding his nose.

Huh. Wonders never ceased.

“Uh, sorry?” she shrugged. Familiar with the wizard as a consultant at Avenger’s tower from time to time, she gave him a sheepish smile and raised her toes in the air, doing splits while lying on her back. “Nice trick, huh?”

“Don’t change the subject, Ms. Lewis. Next time someone comes to your aid, do try to avoid hitting the person helping you.”

“Oh, like it’s going to take you long to fix that. Hey, where did the Asshole go?”

“Uhhhh…” came a moan from across the coffee table. Darcy brought her feet down and stood up, leaning across the wide surface to survey the crumpled form of Asshole.

“Who is he?” she asked Strange, wrinkling her nose. “He smells funny.”

“And he shouldn’t be here. It’s against – the rules set for him.”

“Well, duh. I know he ain’t supposed to be here, Doc.”

“Call me Stephen, or Doctor, if you must.”

“Okay, Doc.”

Dr. Strange rolled his eyes heavenward. “Forces of light so help me keep it together,” he said very softly, under his breath.

Darcy was correct, however, and he fixed his bruised nose with a simple incantation that hardly left a blip of power from his fingertips.

Climbing onto the coffee table, which grumbled ominously under her weight, she sat, cross-legged, peering down at the funny looking guy. “He looks like he crawled out of a Dickens novel.”

“Close to it,” Stephen answered absent-mindedly. Leaning down, he grabbed the man’s arm and yanked at it. “Up. Now.”

“That fuckin’ hurt, mate.”

“I’m not your mate. You’re not supposed to _be_ here,” Dr. Strange hissed at him. 

Darcy’s eyebrows raised. She wished she had popcorn and her cell phone to get this on record. 

Oh well. Memory was good too. Jane would never believe her. As usual.

“Get. _UP!”_ Dr. Strange shouted a little louder, irritated in the extreme. 

“Alright, alright. Hold onto your hat. You tell this little bint to keep her fists to herself. Almost did me in.”

“Ms. Lewis is hardly a threat to you, Mr. Black unless you’re truly incompetent.”

“Hey!” she protested, pointing at Strange. “I’ve had training!”

He raised a brow at her as he continued yanking impatiently at Black’s sleeve.

“Accio!” the man called Black uttered, and the little stick of wood came flying neatly through the air – only to land in Doctor Strange’s hand. With a bit of a finger swirl, a nifty, tiny portal appeared that had fizzy edges like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. He flicked it through and closed the portal.

“What was tha’ for? I need tha’!” Sirius whined, gripping his injured nose with his free hand.

“If you had obeyed the instructions of your probation for rescue from the Veil, you would have your wand this very moment,” Strange admonished him sternly.

“Yeah. So, like, can someone fill me in here?” Darcy asked, cocking her head.

Ignoring her, Strange went on. “Furthermore, you’ve put me in a very precarious position with the Fates. Earth isn’t equipped to deal with their wrath, but our planet owed them a favor, and this is the one they cashed in on. Don’t ask me why they picked to return _you,”_ he sneered at Black. “Useless. Like most so-called wizards I know.”

“Don’t you go insulting -”

Darcy jumped up, inserting herself between the two men and shoving them apart. “Okay. Time the fuck out. Who the fuck _are_ you, and why the fuck are you in my apartment?” she asked this Black fellow.

To Strange’s consternation and surprise, Darcy quickly put two of her fingers to the Doctor’s lips just as he opened them to intercede on Black’s behalf. He was so shocked, it worked. At least, for a minute or so.

“Sirius Black, at your service, Miss. I was sent to investigate –”

“You weren’t sent by anyone official, Mr. Black,” Strange interrupted, shoving Darcy’s hand gently away, which she adamantly replaced immediately.

“Ms. Lewis! You will keep your hands off my person.”

Whirling on Strange, she narrowed her eyes. “Look here, Mr. Hoity-Toity magic man! This dude broke and entered my apartment and was about to give me an answer. Can you like, shut your fuckin’ trap for five fuckin’ minutes so a girl can make some sense out of this mess? Thankyouverymuch,” she rushed out in her last sentence, but she did remove her hand from him while holding up a finger in a final warning for Strange to stay silent until she’d had her fill.

Folding his arms and huffing, Strange turned from her, tapping his foot loudly.

“Ugh. Magic people. Anyway, you were about to say?”

Sirius was in the process of concentrating on his nose, two index fingers pointing straight at it from opposite sides with his eyes crossed.

Witnessing the transformation, Darcy’s mouth dropped open when he healed it.

“Well, fuck me! That’s a nifty trick!”

His eyes widened and focused with laser precision on her lips. “Miss, I had no idea….”

Catching on now that she was no longer in immediate danger, Darcy turned on her inner flirt.

“So, big boy, what were you doing here again?”

She trailed a fingertip down Sirius’s rumpled shirt. A deep inhale had his hands shaking at his sides in an effort not to grab ahold of her.

“I – I – I was sent to investigate – a -a woman violating the wizarding statute of secrecy-”

“Which **YOU** have just violated by telling Ms. Lewis about!” Strange interjected again, whirling on them and slapping Darcy’s hand away from Sirius’ chest.

Darcy gave him her best, patented bitch glare. “You know what, Strange? I think I got it wrong. _You’re_ the Asshole, not this guy. You don’t have to be a prick about it. I work for SHIELD, remember? We keep secrets all the time.”

Confused, Sirius cast his gaze between the two arguing with one another. “SHIELD? What’s that?”

Now Strange focused his best murderous glare on Ms. Lewis. “I am going to pretend you did not just tell a man out of time about the world’s most secret organization,” he rumbled darkly.

“Oh no, the big spooky magician. Whatcha going to do, wipe my memory?” she taunted, backing up when Strange advanced on her menacingly.

“Hey, hey! What the bloody hell, mate? Leave the bird alone!” Sirius objected, exercising his turn at breaking up the tension-filled situation.

“Darcy!” she shouted Sirius. “Darcy fuck-me Lewis! Not BIRD, you bastard. Get it right!”

“Alright! I’m sorry!” he shouted back.

Stephen felt like he was having an out-of-body experience; this entire situation was that absurd.

Holding up both hands in resignation, he decided to throw his cards all-in and just cut his losses. 

“Look. Both of you. Ms. Lewis? You’ve got one shot. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you know the consequences.”

She wanted to talk back to him, but for once bit her tongue. He simply nodded back to her when she shrugged and said, “Yeah, okay.”

Then to Sirius, “You, sir, have some explaining to do. Finish your little conversation so I can get you back. You might have earned yourself a trip back through the Veil.”

“No bloody way am I going back through that thing! It felt like my balls froze off the first time I went through! Do you know what it’s like to be a ghost and feel like your balls are frozen? You can’t even warm up!”

“NO. I can honestly say, I have no idea what that experience is like.”

Sirius shuddered. Addressing Darcy one last time, he gave her a lopsided grin. “Thought you were someone else, babe. I knew as soon as you didn’t use magic, I had the wrong -bi- urm – woman.”

He swallowed heavily, sensing he’d dodged a landmine when she tensed at his almost faux-pas, then relaxed.

“Yeah. The chick three doors down could pass for my older sister. Much. Much Older. I’m not sure I’m flattered you mistook me for her.”

“I tried to get your attention back in the subway. It was hard to see over the crowd; all I got was a glimpse of your beanie and curly hair.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“I don’t even know how I’m going to explain this to the Fates,” Strange griped, more to himself than anyone.

Sirius threw up his hands. “How’s a bloke supposed to make a living if you’ve got me on bloody probation for an indefinite amount of time? It wasn’t my fault my psycho cousin pushed me through the damn thing. I’m not going to live off of your charity forever, you know.”

“That’s what this entire situation is about? What assignment did you take?” Strange asked, curious now.

“Well, MACUSA needed some help. They’re short handed, and a little ad was in between the sections of the main newspaper. Muggles can’t see it. Anyway, I answered the ad, and here I am, only, I screwed it up,” he admitted, scuffing the floor with the edge of his shoe.

“You certainly have, Mr. Black.”

Darcy continued to appear fascinated, remembering the second taser and edging her way toward the couch. Just in case she needed it after all. A girl could never be too careful.

She stopped her edging when the men stopped their back and forth, momentarily satisfied she was safe enough for her to dive for her chosen weapon if she needed to. At least she’s fight going down if this got ugly again.

They all stood awkwardly, avoiding one another’s eye contact before she inhaled and let it go, cheerfully suggesting, “Well, this was fun, but I’m kinda tired and got a hot date with my vibe, a bottle of wine, and Netflix. So, do you mind? Kindly fuck off to whatever or wherever you came from. I’m busy.”

Stephen Strange looked like he was ready to combust; his face was so red, the tips of his ears were white at the edges, the blood vessel in his temple standing out, and pounding visibly.

“Um. Unless … you’d … rather… join me?” Darcy offered, gesturing over her shoulder and up the stairs. “I’ve got a King-sized…”

“Aaaannndd, that’s our cue to exit. Have a pleasant night, Ms. Lewis. I’ll be seeing you again, I'm sure.”

Stephen conspicuously whirled his cape around his front, subjecting Darcy to peek at his groin and giggle. “Alright. You have a good night too. Mr. Black, was it? Nice meeting you. Only next time, make sure you got the right bird?”

Sirius opened his mouth as Darcy pointed at him and laughed. “Gotcha!”

Before he could say a word, Strange had opened a portal, shoved him bodily through, and closed it, the Master of the Mystic Arts winking at her right before it closed.

All alone in her apartment, Darcy rubbed her hands over her upper arms and did a little twirl. 

“Methinks some Master of Mystic Bullshit doth protest too much,” she sang, then trotted up the stairs for her hot date with her plastic friend, her bubbles, and her trusty flat-screen.

It turned out to be a fun night for the young woman, and the next day, as predicted, Jane Foster blew her off as conjuring up an outrageous story to get out of work and distract Jane from her project.

A little note and a curious-looking, ornate cup lay on her bed when she got home that next night. 

All it read was, “Have a drink on me. Be ready. Seven p.m., sharp.”

She hummed and picked it up, turning it over in her hands before righting it, delighted when it filled with red wine. 

Sipping it and pleased when it refilled itself, she whispered to it, “Oh, I’ll be ready, Doc. I’ll be ready.”


End file.
